


His Burden (To Carry)

by Half_SubmergedinPurgatory



Series: TG Prompt Collection [45]
Category: Tokyo Ghoul
Genre: Arima's thought process isn't...great..., Kinda fluff kinda dark?, Other, Prompt Fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-21
Updated: 2017-08-21
Packaged: 2018-12-18 02:47:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 648
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11865054
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Half_SubmergedinPurgatory/pseuds/Half_SubmergedinPurgatory
Summary: ANONYMOUS:Haise is a cuddler. (Arima has grown to appreciate this in his own way)





	His Burden (To Carry)

Nightmares and hallucinations accompanied Haise to bed for as long as he could remember ( _not long at all_ ). He’d gotten used to the company, even when it terrified him. When the pills and the training and the companionship all began to push away the masked man…  
  
He was oddly lonely.  
  
Sleeping got harder.   
  
He began to snuggle into his pillows at night. He’d wrap his arms around them until they almost felt like another person.  
  
It was the start of a terrible habit.

* * *

Not at all tired, Arima picked up Haise from the ground after a lengthly training session. The younger man was practically a puddle of sweat and jellified muscle. He clearly wasn’t going to move on his own.   
  
“Uggggggghhhhhhhh…”  
  
Haise groaned, laying limply in Arima’s arms. It reminded him of Fura, way back when he still played baseball. He’d whine about how his arms hurt…or his back…or his legs…  
  
Arima had been accustomed to pain by then and even now couldn’t understand it well. He did know that Fura preferred to be carried by Arima when he was hurt, though ( _Fura’s friends had told him that, so it must be true despite Fura’s complaints_ ).   
  
Therefore, he carried Haise.   
  
However, Fura had always whined and squirmed the whole way. Haise on the other hand…seemed to have taken a different approach.   
  
He wrapped his arms around Arima’s neck and promptly went to sleep.   
  
Arima was sure it wasn’t ‘normal’ behaviour, but he couldn’t really bring himself to mind. Haise was easier to carry like this. 

* * *

The battlefield cleared out slowly and Haise, who had gone berserk ( _the triggers…were always the same…_ ), lay twitching on the ground. He released a pitiable groan ( _a name_ ) and finally stilled under Arima’s impassive gaze.   
  
Since it was only practical, Arima picked him up and carried him home.   
  
Haise clung to him tightly, legs around his waist, arms over his shoulders, and his cool hands felt nice on Arima’s skin under his too-warm trenchcoat. 

* * *

Haise fell asleep at his desk. As his guardian, it was Arima’s responsibility to make sure he got home.   
  
This time, Haise didn’t even twitch when Arima slung him over his shoulder. It was oddly disappointing.   
  
Somehow, he’d stayed at Haise’s bedside for awhile at the Chateau. It wasn’t until his ward stirred enough to grab onto his hand that Arima left ( _satisfied at last_ ). 

* * *

Arima praised Haise often when he did well. He knew the effects of positive reinforcement and used the methods that he’d been taught. However, sometimes he felt that Haise responded more positively to Akira.   
  
So he tried a method he’d seen her use.   
  
He’d wrapped his arms around Haise ( _careful not to squeeze_ ) in congratulations. Arima’s stomach twisted uncomfortably after a moment of unresponsiveness from his ward ( _had he done this wrong?_ ).   
  
Abruptly, Haise threw his arms around him and pulled them chest-to-chest. Arima felt his hand twitch dangerously, though the longer the embrace lasted, the more soothing it became.   
  
Haise’s hands lingered around his shoulders and he looked reluctant to pull away.   
  
It was strangely satisfying. 

* * *

“Arima-san!”  
  
Haise would call, his hands fluttering over Arima’s elbow.   
  
“Otou-san.”  
  
He would joke, attaching a horse pin to Arima’s jacket, hands laying palm-down against his chest.   
  
“’ima”  
  
He’d greet, tired and confused, laying his head against Arima’s back after another night of hallucinations.   
  
“Arima…”  
  
He’d mumble, opening his arms shyly, a request for another hug.  
  
It gave Arima peace. 

* * *

Kaneki Ken stood before him and Arima readied himself to fight.   
  
Several blows in, the ghost of Haise Sasaki flickered over his features.   
  
“Stop playing around.”  
  
Arima demanded, tone flat like every other time Haise had lost control of himself. Kaneki kept fighting though, unlike Haise. He got far more hurt than Haise ever did.   
  
He kept moving.  
  
Arima couldn’t carry him home until he stopped moving.  
  
_**So...he cut off his legs.**_


End file.
